


the box of memories

by cynicaljapanophile



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Memories, Past Relationship(s), Regret
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:48:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22238887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cynicaljapanophile/pseuds/cynicaljapanophile
Summary: anders reminisces on old memories of a life he has long since thrown away.[slight! warden cousland x anders]
Relationships: Anders/Warden (Dragon Age)
Kudos: 1





	the box of memories

Luna Cousland was never the type to hold a grudge and Anders knew that all too well. 

He thought back to that night in Vigil’s Keep, the last time he ever spoke to her.

He could remember the argument he had with her as if it just happened yesterday. He remembered every single word that spilled from his lips as if he was reading off a script. 

Thinking back to the argument it was really more of a one-sided yelling match with him saying hurtful things that he was sure burned her.

Despite how much it hurt to look back to it, he found it somewhat funny how similar the memory seemed to resemble an argument that he read in one of the few romance novels in the circle. 

Looking up at the creaking ceiling above him the apostate mage let out a groan, he was disappointed in himself, he remembered how upset he got whenever he read those books and one of the character would act unfairly towards their lover, he thought he’d never do something like that, but it seems as if he wasn’t able to stay true to those words. 

He let out a sigh as he slumped to the floor, bumping into the shelf that sat behind him, ignoring the sounds of items falling to the floor as if they weren’t there. 

His bare hands touched the floor for a few seconds before he quickly retracting them from touching the ice-cold surface, pulling them into his chest. 

He buried his face in his hands, ignoring the feeling of his ice-cold palms as memories of his last night with her began to surge through his mind. 

He could remember the faint smell of the raging rain that surrounded the keep and the flickering candle that illuminated the corner of the room in which she stood. The light was faint but even then he could see the obvious stress of being warden commander haven taking its toll on her. He noticed it but he didn’t care.

He-

Anders was interrupted by the sound of something falling from above him. 

Dropping his hands from his face he looked over to the direction of the sound and saw small fragments of glass decorate the floor in front of the armoire that stood only a foot away from him. 

The mage let out a sigh and began to get up and returned to his spot back on the floor, a gleam coming from under the armoire catching his eye. 

He reached over to under the worn down armoire and pulled out a small box he had long since forgotten. 

Pulling the box into his lap he traced the intricately carved wooden box, the box looked as if it was brand new, it was arguably one of the nicest things in the small shop. 

His eyes softened at the box gifted to him by an old friend from before Kirkwall, from the wardens. 

He could no longer hear the strong wind and rain that roared against the window and trees. 

All he could think of was the past. 

Getting up he carefully carried the box in his arms, gently placing it on a nearby chair as he began to dig through a small drawer nearby things he labeled as “junk”

He rummaged through the junk that littered the drawer until coming across a small plain key which was modest compared to what it opened. 

He sat down on the chair and felt his breath halt and hands shake as he neared the key to the lock as if he didn’t want to tread old memories. 

Taking a deep breath he twisted the key to the right and saw items he had long forgotten about, he saw memories he had long since locked away. 

There were many things stashed away in the box that he remembered packing up moments before leaving for his last mission in service for the Grey Wardens. 

A single gold earring, a soft wool scarf, metal braces with the grey warden motif of griffons worn from use, A nearly pristine copy of Phylacteries: A History Written in Blood, a small bell collar, a small elven rune, a whiskey glass, and a small wooden carving of a cat. 

He felt tears welling up as he thought back to his life in Ferelden, his life with the Grey Wardens, his life with his friends. 

* * *

**A single gold earring**

The earring was gifted a few days after his joining, the warden commander said that she noticed it was missing after fighting darkspawn one day and she felt bad and that she had to give him something to apologize. It was one of the first gifts he ever got, he remembers telling her there was no need but she ignored him and gave it to him anyway.

He made a teasing remark about it. 

**_“If losing things in battle means a pretty girl gives me a present maybe I should lose things more often, maybe I should lose a ring next time.”_ **

* * *

**Phylacteries: A History Written in Blood**

It was a gift from Sigrun on the “anniversary of his joining”, though she did admit that she didn’t know that it was the anniversary of his joining until being told a few hours before the celebration at the keep took place. 

It was clumsily wrapped in plain brown paper and a small red ribbon, a surprise that quickly made him nervous a few seconds later after she admitted that she found it on the body of a dead blood mage that she killed while doing some work for the merchant’s guild. 

Despite the circumstances regarding how she came across the gift, the cat-loving warden was pleasantly surprised at the nearly pristine copy of the book “Phylacteries: A History Written in Blood”. 

He attempted to thank the blue-eyed warden only to be interrupted by the perky dwarf saying that there was no reason for him to thank her. 

**_“There’s no need for that Anders, after all, we’re friends, right?”_   
**

* * *

**A small elven rune**

He saw the progression of Velanna throughout the time they worked together as wardens but the most memorable memories he has of her is the moment he was woken up from his attempted nap by being hit on the back of the head by something hard. 

He turned his head and looked down behind him and saw a small stone runestone, the rune being something he didn’t quite recognize. 

He picked it up and traced his fingers over the rune on the stone, it was something he had never seen before and he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. 

He was interrupted by an ‘ahem.’ by a certain Dalish warden. 

There she was, the only Dalish warden Fereldan and one of the few people with the guts to argue with the Hero of Ferelden. 

She had her signature glare on her face but there was something different about it and he couldn’t put his finger on it. 

She explained how she found it in the Cadash Thaig and it wasn’t anything special, at least not to her, after all, she’d seen many runestones like that before, it wasn’t anything unique to her. 

“In one of our first conversations, you suggested we sit down and talk about magic so I thought I might as well give it to you and talk to you about it.” 

That’s what was different about her. 

Her sharp eyes were soft, she was comfortable. 

**_“I have no use for it and it’ll be useless if I give it to you only for you to be completely oblivious about it so sit down and listen.”_ **

* * *

**A small bell collar**

It wasn’t really a gift for him but more for Ser Pounce-a-Lot, he remembered seeing her crouched down in the corner. 

She mumbled softly to herself not noticing that she was no longer alone in the room. 

He laughed at how surprised she got when he poked the back of her head to alert her of his presence. He couldn’t help but laugh at how easily the famous Hero of Fereldan got scared. 

When he asked her what she was doing she moved to the side revealing the small ginger tabby kitten with a modest but cute aquamarine collar decorated by small silver bells. 

He asked her where she got it as he played with the paws of the ginger kitten. 

**_“I bought it in town, it looks cute on him, no?”_ **

* * *

**Whiskey Glass**

He often took part in drink offs with Oghren despite failing to even come close to beating him, despite losing every time he would constantly challenge Oghren. 

Maybe he was a sore loser, maybe he and Oghren competed too much but to him, he just enjoyed talking with Oghren even if most of the time the words that fell from Oghren’s lips were ignored for the most part instead paying attention to the smell of his breath. 

It was late at night, they had their largest joining in which they had six new wardens which according to the men of Vigil’s Keep described as being a reason for celebrating. 

He and Oghren were the only ones still awake with all the soldiers had passed out long ago, though you could barely describe the mage as being conscious.

He didn’t remember much but he did remember what Oghren said before and after giving him the glass. 

Oghren pushed a whiskey glass towards him, it was clean, pristine, it was as if no one had ever touched it, as if it was absolutely brand new. 

**_“Maybe if you practice enough you’ll actually be able to beat me, I doubt it but you sure as hell can try.”_ **

* * *

**Small wooden cat carving**

It was a gift for his birthday, it was given to him by Nathaniel after the initial celebration was done with almost everyone having been long passed out. 

He sat down next to him and without any warning tossed him something that he could only recognize as a pale orange and white blur. 

Catching the object tossed to him he opened his eyes and looked down and saw a small carving of Ser Pounce-a-Lot. 

He stared down at the carving for a few seconds before turning his head to look up at Nathaniel who was sitting next to him. 

He opened his mouth to speak but before any words could fall from his lips Nathaniel spoke up. 

**_“You can’t bring Ser Pounce-a-Lot everywhere and whenever you aren’t carrying him you pout non stop so just carry that around.”_ **

* * *

**A soft wool scarf**

It was a gift that was given to him out of the blue by the warden-commander. 

He remembered the light blush that painted her face, the red being noticeable against her pale cheeks. 

**_“My mother told me she believed she won over my father with the softer arts so I thought I’d do the same.”_ **

* * *

Anders let out a sigh as he began to come back to the present time, he gently placed everything back inside of the box before hesitantly locking it up to once again forget about his past. 

He stared down at the box, there were droplets of tears falling off his face onto the box making him even more eager to put them away until his mind wandered back to the past. 

There was no turning back.

There were moments where he wished to go back to Vigil’s Keep and fight darkspawn along with his brothers and sisters, to go back and listen to Oghren’s drunken ramblings and the arguments between Velanna and the other wardens but he knew that could never happen again.

There was no going back to the past he had thrown away.


End file.
